


A Familiar Destiny

by SayuriTris



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cute Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Whump, Dean as different animals, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, Loving Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Sassy Dean Winchester, Slow Build, Spanking, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayuriTris/pseuds/SayuriTris
Summary: 18 year old Dean’s future is destined by heaven. Under the guidance of his Guardian Angel, he awaits the day he will be bound to a higher order Angel as their Familiar. It is a fate that he awaits with eager anticipation. But his father, the man who has bullied and degraded him his entire life, pushes Dean to sell his destiny to a crossroads demon to save him from hell. In a single moment, Dean’s future and any memories of his angel past are stripped from himself and everyone who ever knew him.12 years later, Dean is dragged from hell by the angel Castiel, and with Sam, they fight to save the world. But Dean finds himself drawn to the angel and is horrified by his desire for him. He knows he could never be good enough for an angel, and he pushes the other man away with sarcasm and an attitude. However, as another battle approaches, he meets an angel amongst Castiel’s army that seems strangely familiar, and a crossroads demon is promising to restore his destiny in exchange for helping him to become the king of hell. But Dean doesn’t believe he is worth anything more than dying for the good of the world, and he isn’t sure he even deserves a destiny.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	A Familiar Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> HI all. Thanks for coming to read my first Supernatural story.  
> Just for notes, I have an outline of this story but the chapters and the tags will develop over time. This will deviate from canon but there will be a lot of similarities in the background and the introduction of Castiel.  
> Please be aware that there will be major Dean Whump at different points in this story, with physical and emotional abuse, but I can also guarantee there will be no rape/non con and definitely a happy ending!  
> Please let me know what you think- feed the creativity beast and just feel free to introduce yourself. I love getting to know others.  
> If you don't like the story, please just leave. As myself and other writers know, horrible comments don't exactly make us feel great. Putting out something like this is like putting out a bIt of ourselves, and it's horrible when someone tramples all over it. Constructive comments are definitely welcome though.

There was no word of greater significance, no tone of greater wretchedness, and no voice that could cause any greater fear than in that word uttered with such demand from behind him.

“Dean”.

The entire group, excepting the intended recipient of that word, turned in a silent play of uniformity. Dean watched as their eyes widened simultaneously and they stood as if turned to granite for a few concrete moments. It reminded Dean of a scripted play, with characters so large that they could tell a story without the use of words. It would have been funny had Dean had the cognitive ability to make sense of the situation. But the overwhelming dread that now sat nestled in his stomach at that one word wiped every coherent thought from his mind.

“Dean”, the voice sounded again, that air of authority now as familiar to Dean as his own father’s. “Come here”.

A collection of eyes turned towards him, and he felt himself flush under their scrutiny, but it was not for long. His 18 year old body moved of its own accord, so attuned to obeying the orders of that voice. He didn’t even have time to consider the humiliation of what was about to happen in front of the girl he had been flirting with all afternoon.

In mere moments he was where he had been ordered to be, and he dropped his head, knowing that now was not a moment to be challenging.

“Why are you not in school?”, the voice demanded, not allowing him any reprieve or sparing him from any humiliation in front of his new friends.

He felt much younger in that moment than the ‘nearly man’ he had been not five minutes before. Had this been his father, he would have prevaricated. He could easily have lied to his father, made him believe that school had been cancelled or they were on some field trip. Though in reality he knew his father would never have asked that question; that would have meant caring more than he actually did. The point was, had this been anyone other than the owner of that voice, he might have tried to talk his way out of it. He was smooth and charming, and he wielded that power when it truly suited him, though he was careful not to use it too often. He knew he was putting his future at risk if he lied too often, but he was a teenager, and there was a certain amount of leeway allowed. It was pointless to lie now, however, and he didn’t even try. He accepted he had been caught and it was time to face whatever consequences lay out in front of him, despite the fact that he was under such scrutiny from the judgmental eyes of the group behind him.

He must have taken too long to answer, because a finger was suddenly under his chin and forcing him to confront his accuser. He knew what he would see, and he knew he was about to feel something worse than dread. As his eyes were lifted forcibly from the ground beneath him, he caught sight of the face belonging to the man who had been his strength from the moment he was young enough to draw breath. Fides gazed down at him, and despite the apparent emotional limitations of angels, Dean had no difficulty in interpreting his Guardian’s thoughts. Fides’ eyes were warm as they settled on him, and he gazed at his recalcitrant charge without any hint of anger or frustration, but he could not hide that slither of disappointment that Dean so dreaded. Despite his cocky attitude, Dean hated knowing he was a disappointment. Anger he could handle, pain he could handle, even the scorn and judgement from his father he could handle; but disappointment sent him into a spiral of emotional pain and self-recrimination.

Fides cocked his head to the side and studied him, frowning as Dean began to squirm under his gaze. He didn’t want to have to tell him. He hadn’t seen his Angel in nearly a month, and he didn’t want to have to explore his own motivations. It had been months since Dean had done something so blatantly disobedient, and Fides knew that something must have happened to make him go against Fides’ own rules. His father wouldn’t have given a damn if his son had skipped school, so Fides had been forced to set his own rules and adapt them as Dean aged. Dean rarely went against them to such an extent.

“We will discuss this somewhere more private”, his Guardian announced gently, knowing that he did not need to raise his voice for Dean to obey. His warm eyes moved over towards his friends and he could see his features morph into one of judgement as his gaze slid over them one by one. Dean didn’t have to turn around to know that his friends would be frozen at the sight. Fides, though a source of comfort and care to Dean, was a formidable angel. Even without his wings, which stood ten feet above him, their dark expanse towering above them, his human vessel was tall and broad, ripped with muscle. Dean knew the vessel had been a bodybuilder before he gave it up to Fides just before his death. Fides was dark skinned and handsome, and Dean decided never to examine the fact that he occasionally sought out pornography that had dark skinned men dominating their younger charges. He flushed, hoping that Fides was not reading his mind, though he promised never to do that unless necessary. It felt wrong to crave something akin to the angel, however, and Dean tried hard to supress those thoughts. Fides was his Guardian and had been with him since he was a baby; he definitely should not be thinking such things. But the man had also dominated him since a young age, and it was almost impossible not to meld that with sexual desire.

“It is time to go, Dean”, Fides announced, gesturing towards his companions.

Dean closed his eyes, the humiliation curling in his stomach as he turned back to the group. Everyone would know exactly what was about to happen. The first person he noticed was the girl he had been flirting with all afternoon. He’d expected her to look away from him, not with disgust exactly, but with a recognition that he wasn’t the man she had expected him to be. But instead she seemed to gaze at him with a sense of hunger, which took him by surprise. She must know what he was now. There was only one reason he’d have a Guardian Angel. He gazed at her for a moment longer, and she smiled at him warmly. He swallowed; perhaps when this was over, he’d ask her out. Perhaps their sex life might be more interesting now that she knew what he was. He barely glanced over the rest of the group. He couldn’t even remember some of their names, considering he’d known them for less than a month. With most, he saw a deep level of respect and even a sliver of awe. It was a look he had come to know well, considering that having a Guardian Angel was so rare. It proclaimed to the world that he was special and righteous, and destined for something greater than a mere mortal life. But with one or two he could see scorn and disgust, and he wasn’t surprised. It was a look he saw often from men who considered themselves “real men”; who saw any type of submission as weakness and viewed Dean as nothing more than a “pathetic bitch”. He shrugged, it wasn’t like they could do anything to him beyond a few sneers or derogatory comments. They would never risk the wrath of an angel by laying a hand on him. Besides, nobody could hurt him more than his father. 

“I’ll see you guys later”, he said, trying to hold onto the air of nonchalance that he was so practiced in. They nodded in unison but seemed to be waiting for him to leave before making any further move. He envied them the afternoon ahead of them. He’d been looking forward to going up to the creek and having a day where he didn’t have to worry about schoolwork, or Sam, or his father. Why did Fides have to turn up today of all days? He’d have confessed himself later anyway, when the guilt began to tear him apart; but now he had to deal with the aftermath without actually enjoying the spoils.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and without time to even consider the implications, they were standing in the white room that Dean was so familiar with. Fides had told him once that this was a pocket of heaven. It was a pocket only accessible by potentials and their Guardians. Higher level Angels were forbidden access to this area, as they were forbidden from knowing the identities of Potentials. Higher level Angels so rarely visited earth, that there was little chance of them finding out Dean’s identity, and he was not permitted into the other areas of heaven until he was chosen.

The room was warm and transmitted a sense of ethereal calm, though it did little to dampen the churning of his stomach. The floors were covered in thick white carpets that, at other times, more pleasant times, he loved to sink into, much more than the available couches. In the early years, after his mother’s death, Fides had brought him here to simply give him space away from his father and the responsibilities of Sam. Fides had held him when he cried over the death of his mother, or of losing friends when his father forced them to move again, or when he left them with no money whilst he hunted the demon that had stolen their mother. But Fides would also bring him here just to play or to be with someone who cared about him and treated him as if he was special. His Guardian Angel had always been with him, and he was the only one he ever confided in. He was the one he told his secrets to or confessed his fears. Dean knew he was safe, and he knew that the angel would never judge him or abandon him. Dean had a purpose and knowing that he would fulfil that purpose sometime soon, was what had held him through the long years. In recent years, the visits to the room had changed. This was a place that Dean could begin to explore his submission. There was nothing sexual in the encounters, but he could kneel without fear of judgement, and Fides would provide him with the boundaries and guidance that allowed him to drift into his submissive headspace. Of course, the less comforting purpose of the room was for punishment, though even then Dean knew it was because he needed it, or he tended to pull himself apart without the outlet of confession and penance.

He stood in front of his Guardian Angel. Fides had settled himself on a seat in front of him and Dean stood awkwardly, shifting from side to side. He longed to kneel, but the other man knew that it was much more uncomfortable for Dean to stand like a naughty child in front of him. “You rarely disobey, Dean”, Fides announced rhetorically but Dean nodded anyway, his eyes glued to the floor. Silence enveloped the room as he stood in constant fidgeting motion in front of the angel. When he was a child, and even at times as a teenager when he was feeling particularly brattish, he would occasionally run away from the angel. It was pointless. There was no way out of the room without angel flight. There were no doors or windows. Dean guessed many would feel trapped, but he only felt safe. If he couldn’t get out, then no-one could get in. He was not afraid of his angel, beyond that of a submissive awaiting punishment, and he felt free to be himself in this room. He ran because that was what children did, and as a teenager, it was a part of exploring his submission; being a brat and being brought back in line was a part of who he was at times. He used to feel guilty when his brat side would play, but Fides had assured him that it was a part of his submission and would be loved by whatever angel claimed him, and Fides never lied, so Dean had accepted it without further thought.

“What happened?”. Fides was matter of fact in his tone, and Dean felt comforted that his angel knew him so well and knew that any real disobediences were never from a place of wilful disobedience, but because he was overwhelmed, or lost, or more often than not feeling worthless. He needed his angel in those moments to help him find his worth, but he didn’t always know that was what he was doing until it was too late. He only had to call, and Fides would be there, but sometimes he worried he was a burden, that the other man would be too busy for him, or that Fides didn’t care about him. But then the angel would be there, right in front of him, and his doubts would be wiped away. But then would come the dreaded but cleansing punishment. 

Dean didn’t have to follow the rules; it was his choice. It was all right to mess up occasionally; he wasn’t expected to be perfect, though he was expected to take the consequences. But should he choose to completely disregards the rules, he would be giving up his future. Part of obeying was giving himself over to the future of a Familiar and proving his loyalty. He wanted that future, and he couldn’t ever imagine giving it up. Plus, he had been chosen for a reason; because he was destined to be a Familiar, and that meant he was inherently submissive. He needed Fides’ guidance to feel safe and to flourish, even under the rule of his father. Fides gave him what he needed to feel at peace and to develop some sort of self-esteem.

He knelt in front of the other man and placed his cheek on his knee. Fides permitted it, knowing it was hard for Dean to be open up, even to his angel. Dean relaxed when he felt fingers running through his hair, letting out a breath of tension he didn't know he had been holding. "My father", he stated, admitting again that he was weak to his father's words. The other man said nothing as he waited. "He had another fight with Sam and took off again. He barely left us any money. We've only been in this town for a few weeks and already I've had to beg for food from the local church". He could feel the anger welling up. "I get that he doesn't give a crap about me, but Sam's barely fourteen. How could he do that?", he asked, though he did not expect an answer. "Then he came home last night in one of his drunken rages. I got mad when he blamed me for having no food in the house and he started going on about how I thought myself so bloody high and mighty because I was an angel's whore". He heard Fides growl in anger, but he knew the angel could say or do nothing. Fides had often secretly expressed to him his frustrations with heaven's rules. He was permitted to save Dean if he was in any real danger, or to smite anyone that physically hurt him, but he couldn't interfere in the free will of the people. He was a lower level angel, whose purpose was to guide Dean on the path to becoming a Familiar, and that limited his powers. He couldn't stop his father's treatment of him unless it became physical, and Dean knew it hurt him to watch his father degrade him so badly. All he could do was be there when Dean needed him and try to restore the self-esteem that his father stole. But even then, he couldn't be with him all the time; he had other heavenly duties.

“Why did you not call for me?”, the angel above him asked. Dean shrugged, turning his head further into Fides’ lap, looking for some sort of comfort he couldn’t name. “Dean”, he admonished gently, though with a firmness that he knew meant he better answer quick sharp.

“I didn’t think it was worth bothering you about. You’re busy”, he mumbled, feeling his face flame at that admission. Fides pulled him up from the floor as if he was nothing but a ragdoll and placed him upright on his knee. The manhandling made him swallow, a thickness of desire curling in his chest. He flushed at such a blatant display of power kink, but the other man took no notice.

“What are you Dean?”, Fides demanded.

Dean closed his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t get away without answering. He’d been in this position enough times. “A potential”, he mumbled, his eyes trained below him, unable to look up at the face of the angel.

“And what does that mean?”, Fides asked, his tone firm.

Dean’s throat suddenly became thick, and it was difficult to force the words up into the silent air. “Special and Righteous”.

“And?”, Fides demanded impatiently.

Dean always broke down at this point, no matter how many times the other man forced him through this ritual. He could feel the tears already beginning to push their way violently past his defences. “Perfect and Good, and…and”, his voice wavered at this point, and Fides pulled him in closer. It took him a few seconds to fight past the tears breaking him apart, but he knew Fides would demand he finish, no matter how hard it was for him. “And worth the love and care of an Angel”, he sobbed in a whisper, burrowing himself into the chest of the man that held him together when everyone else tore him apart.


End file.
